


The Witcher's Prince

by noxis (c4d3llin)



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Curse Breaking, Curses, Family Feels, M/M, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22971877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c4d3llin/pseuds/noxis
Summary: When Jaskier's sudden urge to play a round of cards ends in a curse upon his loved ones, it's Geralt who falls prey to the curse. Things are not that simple for the curse has a hold on Geralt’s heart, on his life. Trying to break it could be very hard indeed...or it could be very, very simple if Jaskier would just kiss the sleeping Witcher and break the curse.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 204





	The Witcher's Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Geraskier Week: Day 6+7 – Found Family + Destiny
> 
> A/N: Well guys this sounded better in my head but for some reason now that I've written it out, it's just turned into a hot mess. Basically just wanted some true love's kiss with a twist situation so enjoy!

_Dear Reader,_   
_The thing about destiny is how utterly strange and out of the blue it can be sometimes. You spend your whole life wondering whether you’re going to end up alone watching from afar as the person you love gets stolen away from right under your nose. Or wondering if perhaps one day there might be a chance for you and he to be together. But then sometimes on very rare occasions, destiny decides to intervene, wake you up and lead your blind self to the person that you're meant to be with._

_You see when I was younger, I visited a fortune teller. You know, the kind that came along with the travelling circus. The kind who just sort of gazes into her crystal ball or makes your pick some cards and then tells you things that you already know._

_The one I visited must’ve been like a step up or something for she told me things that I did not yet know. Things like how I would one day break free and find my calling in the road. I was young and foolish and never really paid heed to the old crone’s words. So things just happened..._

_I mean honestly who would pay attention to an old crone’s words? Especially when she said something along the lines of ‘one day you’ll save the life of someone dear to you’ or something like that, honestly I don’t really remember and I didn’t think that I would ever find someone whom I considered dear to me at that point in time or…perhaps_ ever _really._

 _Like I said I was young and dumb and I hadn’t learned the arts of pouring one’s heart out in a journal. That crone probably didn’t see me grown up, I mean look at me, I’m a bard. I sing and write poetry and I follow a Witcher around because he protects me…and he makes me feel safe…I suppose I should have seen it coming really with the amount of time that I spent by Geralt’s side…but it never really occurred to me that I would be the one to save_ him _..._

**xXx**

Sometimes Witchers have the occasional day off when they rested and sought pleasures in worldly things like prostitutes, drink and in Geralt’s case, more training...so too did their bards. Today, Jaskier finds himself in such a position and had decided to head over to a tavern in Cintra for a round of cards, which, honestly is something that he usually didn’t do but just sort of felt like it today. 

So he’s sat opposite a young lord, the kind of snooty man who loved to see the lower-classes grovel and beg. The kind he’d swindle everything from. Jaskier keeps his face void of emotion a blank mask as he eyes the cards on the table comparing it to his hand. A flicker of panic. Let the man think what he likes — that he doesn’t have a good hand. 

Jaskier bids low. 

The young lord smirks thinking he’s got him right where he wanted him. Then the young lord pushes all his earnings forward, “All in.” 

The tavern is silent. 

Jaskier eyes the young lord warily, does a little nervous gulp and then makes to move his coins forward as well, “Suppose I’m all in as well. That’s how this all works right?”

“Right. Now then, let’s see what we got!” The man has a smug look on his face as he reveals his cards. “Three of a kind.” 

Jaskier checks his cards again, sighing deeply. “Fuck...”

“Come on then, boy, let’s see your cards then, shall we?” 

Jaskier keeps playing the scared little boy for just a while more as he turns his cards over, “Full house,” he announces simply with a smirk as he scoops up the winnings into a small leather purse, “It’s been nice playing with you!” 

“What the fuck!!? How?!? You cheated! Didn’t you? You must have!”

“I did not!” Jaskier snapped appalled, “No gentleman would cheat for such a trivial thing! It’s just that Lady Luck favours me today!”

“I don’t believe that!”

“Believe what you will then,” Jaskier laughs as he pockets his earnings leaving the tavern.

A loud crash sounds from somewhere behind him as the sore loser swiped everything off the table, cursing and swearing up and down, “A curse upon you and all whom you love!”   
  
It did not occur to Jaskier at that point in time just what destiny had in store for him. For those were the words uttered by a man who’d probably just lost a fraction of his fortune, it’s not a big deal at least Jaskier thought nothing of the words at all for long-forgotten were the crone’s words. 

**xXx**

It’s just past noon when Jaskier makes it back to the castle which he finds is surprisingly abuzz with activity. The soldiers were headed off towards the training grounds. Perhaps there was a tournament that Queen Calanthe had decided to host at the last moment or something, Jaskier couldn’t be bothered right now, he would just love to go and find Geralt and tell him of his winnings today. He’s headed back towards the castle when he hears the soldiers passing by talking about how all this has got to do with a Witcher. Oh fine...Jaskier rolled his eyes, probably another competition between Geralt and the Cintran Guard he supposed and he heads towards the training ground as well where all the soldiers seemed to be gathering.

As he pushes towards the front, Jaskier realises that something had gone horribly wrong and he finds the Witcher lying unconscious on the ground, sword in hand. Jaskier does an examination of his own. Geralt seemed to be fine, no injuries that he could see at the moment. Perhaps the Witcher had fainted from the heat of the sun. The druid Mousesack was already examining him as a worried looking Ciri hurries to Jaskier hugging the bard tight in greeting.

“What happened?” Jaskier asks looking to Mousesack while he hugs Ciri, stroking a hand comfortingly up and down the little girl’s back. 

The druid gives a subtle shake of his head. Nothing good then…

“Jaskier, take Ciri back to her room,” Mousesack told the bard, “we’ll move Geralt inside as well. Come see me later.” 

“Of course.” 

Jaskier takes Ciri’s hand in his as they head back towards the castle. She’s Geralt’s child surprise and a bright young thing. Her quietness, Jaskier knew is the little Princess’ way of showing her strength. The poor girl must probably be worried.

“They won’t let me see him, but I know it’s something bad,” Ciri says as they enter her bed chambers. 

“Did you see what happened?” Jaskier asked and the Princess nods her blond head. 

“Geralt just…fell over all of a sudden.” 

“Fell over? What do you mean?” Worry prickled over his skin at the very thought of the Witcher suddenly keeling over. He tried to think of some illnesses that resulted in a person just suddenly falling over but nothing came to mind. Jaskier felt useless.

“Well they were fighting,” Ciri said softly, “I asked Geralt to show me his skills…and he went to practice with grandmother’s soldiers…” Ciri looked up to Jaskier with tears already glistening in her blue eyes, “Then he fell over…it’s my fault Geralt got hurt…”

“Oh no, my darling no,” Jaskier cooed as he wiped the tears from the Princess’s face, trying to comfort her, “You did no such thing. Geralt’s going to be fine, you’ll see.”

“Really?” 

Jaskier nodded, “Witcher’s are very strong, Ciri. I know that best. I’ve travelled everywhere with Geralt and every time he’s hurt, I patch him back up and he recovers in a couple days. As good as new.” 

Ciri smiled just a little, seemingly relieved, “Has Geralt protected you a lot?” 

“Oh yes,” Jaskier says smiling fondly, “Geralt’s saved my life many a time. I wouldn’t even be here if it’s not for him.” 

“You will let me know how he is, won’t you? I know Mousesack doesn’t think I’m old enough…but I want to know, Jaskier. You will keep me informed?” Ciri said.

“I shall endeavour to keep you informed, Princess,” Jaskier replies as he flourishes a bow to the delight of Ciri who giggles.

**xXx**

Jaskier stayed the night with Geralt in his room. He’d started out sleeping in the chair but then he’s curled up to Geralt’s side and come morning he was snuggled under the covers with the Witcher who did not wake. Jaskier began to worry for by the second day, after he’d wiped the Witcher down, the bard noticed that there were dark fractured marks spanning Geralt’s chest. The black tendrils radiated out from his heart and Jaskier felt the cold hand of fear constricting about his throat. The first thing he did was to call Mousesack.

“I don’t understand how could this have happened?” Jaskier asked as Mousesack examined Geralt. “He should be awake by now if it’s just a normal sort of fainting spell, right? And these markings, are they dangerous?”

“Right, I don’t think it’s a normal fainting spell to be honest. As for the markings...well, at least he’s still breathing,” Mousesack muttered, “so whatever it is hasn’t killed him just yet. Let’s just hope it stays that way.” 

The bard’s voice is soft, “Mousesack, what do you think is wrong with him? What if he doesn’t recover?”

The druid shook his head, “There’s not much I can do to help him,” Mousesack replies looking just as devastated and apologetic, “As far as I can tell, Geralt’s symptoms have nothing to do with ordinary medicine. In fact, by normal standards, not a thing is wrong with his body. I suspect foul play,” the druid muttered, “by which I mean curses especially judging from the look of that,” Mousesack said as he nodded to the marks upon Geralt’s chest, “I don’t have much expertise in the area of breaking curses.”

“I think I know someone who does…only problem is I don’t know if she’ll help me.” Jaskier looked grim as the man from the tavern’s shouted curses came to mind, it couldn’t be...a curse...for real...right?

“I have a feeling I know who you speak of,” Mousesack muttered, “The sorceress, Yennefer’s going to be very hard to find, especially if she doesn’t want to be found.”

“Any chance the Queen’s willing to help?” Jaskier asked as he eyes the sleeping Geralt, offering up a silent prayer to whatever high entities that were listening to save the Witcher and make the curse one that is easy to break.

“For Geralt? Why, there’s no doubt she’ll send out every able-bodied soldier.” 

And Mousesack was right. For as soon as Queen Calanthe is informed of the situation, she mobilises her troops to help get the word out as quickly as possible. The message is simple: ‘There is a wounded Witcher who requires the help of a skilled sorceress”, Jaskier is sure that this will pique Yennefer’s attention enough for her to track Geralt down. 

Now, as promised, Jaskier was on his way to tell Ciri of Geralt’s condition but as soon as she sees Jaskier entering her room, she comes running straight towards him, throwing herself into the bard’s arms and sobbing uncontrollably, “Oh Jaskier! I heard grandmother say that something horrible’s happened to Geralt. That he’s cursed,” she whispers big blue eyes glistening with tears as she looks up to him. “Tell me it’s not true!” 

Jaskier cannot find the words to lie to her. And in his silence, the young girl finds the truth, sobbing even more. 

“I shouldn’t have asked him to demonstrate his skills. I shouldn’t ha—”

“Ciri, Ciri shhh, listen to me,” Jaskier says softly as he lowers himself to the young girl’s height, “I’m going to let you in on a secret alright? You have to listen closely and make sure that you tell no one what I’m about to tell you. Can you do that for me?” 

Ciri nods earnestly as she eyes Jaskier, waiting for the secret. 

“If any one’s the cause of the curse that’s upon Geralt right now? It would probably be me.”

Ciri’s eyes widen, “How do you know that?” 

Jaskier is ashamed, sorrowful, “I don’t know for certain,” he says as he swallows past the lump in his throat, “It’s a stupid little thing really it happened over a game of cards. And I…” the bard chokes up squeezing his eyes shut, “I can only hope that it isn’t my fault. It can’t be.”

**xXx**

That night as Jaskier nodded off curled up next to the Witcher he heard the rather familiar roaring of a portal opening behind him. He jumps and quickly scrambles off the bed for it could be none other than the sorceress herself Yennefer of Vengeburg. Beautiful, curvaceous Yennefer with her dark hair falling gracefully about her like a jet black halo, her lilac gaze settles upon the bard, all tousled looking, there is no doubt that he had been resting by the Witcher’s side.

“Jaskier,” she purrs, “I received your message and quite honestly, I’m not surprised. You’re in trouble again and you need my help. Seems to have become a pattern with you two trouble follows you and him around.”

“Yennefer,” Jaskier greets he had no mood for snide comments. He’s too anxious for that. Yennefer crosses the room, coming over to Geralt’s bedside. Jaskier watches as she examines Geralt’s body all professional like despite the fact that the Witcher’s topless. God it must be a normal thing for her...then again Jaskier’s had his fair share of seeing the Witcher topless too but he can never get used to the sight of that lean body boasting slivers of cuts and scars. 

The sorceress had never been one for showy displays of affection. Unless she was doing it for a purpose like stealing things from Geralt or trying to make him want her more. Jaskier wondered if she even truly cared for Geralt as he did. Perhaps she did, as she carded her hand through Geralt’s hair, her features softening but for a second. 

Jaskier turned away from them, giving them privacy and hating himself for feeling jealous. 

“It seems Geralt’s under a curse,” Yennefer’s confirmation strikes an arrow through the bard’s heart. “Jaskier, did you hear me? Turn around for heaven’s sake!” 

Jaskier turns to face her. 

“Mousesack’s right. Geralt is under a curse.” 

“Oh fuck…” Jaskier whispers as his worst fears are confirmed it /is/ his fault that Geralt is this way. How could he have been so utterly stupid to think otherwise?

“What do you mean ‘oh fuck’?” Yennefer asks her face darkening as she eyes the bard like a guard dog ready to attack.

“I-I think it’s my fault that Geralt’s like this right now…” Jaskier squeaked as Yennefer rounds on the bard, gripping him by the front of his tunic. Lilac eyes ablaze, she glowers at him, “Right tell me what happened. I need to know everything in detail.” 

“Well I-I was playing a game of cards in a tavern in Cintra,” Jaskier explained, “I won and the guy I beat lost all his coin to me. Like any sore loser he just cursed his way out of the game and such. I didn’t think anything of it at first…not until right now that is…”

Yennefer lets go of the bard as she pinches the bridge of her nose. Dealing with the bard can be rather challenging, and Yen had little patience to space, “Alright, I’m going to need to know the words Jaskier. What did he say, exactly? I need it word for word for curses are funny little things and in order to reverse them I need to know the order of the words.” 

Jaskier laughs nervously as the sorceress’s lilac eyes seem to pierce into his very soul. He’s in quite the panic as he can’t even remember what he had for breakfast let alone the order of the words in some angry little lord’s curses. He remembers curse and something to do with loved ones. But not the entire sentence, “Damnit! I don’t know!” Jaskier throws up his hands in defeat, “I don’t remember what the man said and now Geralt’s going to die!” 

“He’s not going to die,” Yennefer ground out, “Not if I can help him. Now think!” Yennefer puts her finger to the bard’s forehead and gives it a single tap. 

Jaskier felt a sharp little jolt course through his body at her touch and as though he was standing in the moment itself Jaskier hears the man’s words in his head loud and clear, “A curse upon you and all whom you love,” Jaskier recounts word for word, “That’s what he said.” 

Yennefer’s eyes narrow, “Hmm…”

Jaskier looks from her to Geralt. The sorceress it seems had picked up the Witcher’s trademark hum.

“Look I love Ciri and Ciri is fine,” Jaskier said, “If it’s a curse that’s targeting my loved ones then how did the curse not get her?”

“Like I said, curses have a funny way of working,” Yennefer mutters with a frown, “I’ll be right back. Stay right here.”

That being said Yennefer throws open a portal and is gone from the room. 

Jaskier doesn’t plan on leaving at all. He settles down on the bed and true enough, barely moments later, another portal opens into the room and Triss steps out first, followed by Yennefer. 

“Jaskier!” she greets with a smile, “How’ve you been?” 

“Could be worse,” the bard replies with a small smile. Jaskier’s always liked Triss for out of the two sorceresses, she’s just /that/ much more approachable than Yennefer is.

“Have a look at the curse,” Yennefer said nodding over to Geralt, “I’d like to compare notes.” 

Triss nods and takes her time to examine the dark web spreading out across Geralt’s chest, “He doesn’t have much time left.” 

“It’s as I feared,” Yennefer muttered, “The curse will end his life. If we’re not quick enough to break it.” 

Jaskier eyed the two most powerful sorceresses that he knew, “There’s got to be something that the two of you can do right? I mean you’re armed with an arsenal of potions, spells, and everything…” 

Yennefer folded her arms across her chest, “We have all those, yes. But it’s not that simple. This curse has a hold on Geralt’s heart. On his life even. Trying to break it could be very hard indeed.”

“I know a couple of potions which might work,” Triss said, “They’ll slow down the spread of the curse hopefully.”

“H-How long...does he have?” Jaskier asks the question that’s been lingering in the room for a while now. Triss looks to Yennefer who nods her head.

“A day. Two at most. But it would be best if we hurry in terms of finding a cure right now.” 

Jaskier stumbles backward colliding with the chair which he fell into, “A day? I…I have to help somehow.”

There’s a soft knock on the door now before Mousesack and Queen Calanthe enter the room. Greetings are quickly exchanged and the Queen is given all the necessary updates. Queen Calanthe is grim, solemn even, “Jaskier, Mousesack, you work on contacting his friends, just in case. You can use all the soldiers that you need. Yennefer and Triss, I will have rooms prepared for the both of you. The lab and its supplies are all yours to command and if you have any need for ingredients, you need only ask.” 

“Right, I’ll get to work immediately then,” Triss says as they all part ways. Only Jaskier lingered behind. If this is to be the end…he isn’t going to leave Geralt’s side after all he is the one who caused this. 

“Mousesack,” he stops the druid just as he was leaving, “If it’s alright with you…can I stay and watch over Geralt?” 

“Yes, of course,” Mousesack replies, there is understanding in his eyes, “Finding three Witchers shouldn’t be that hard at all. But getting them to come is another thing altogether isn’t it?”

“Vesemir will definitely come as soon as he hears word. Eskel too. The only one you’d need worry about is Lambert. He’s...complicated,” Jaskier said with a little laugh remembering the last time he’d met the youngest Witcher. The man was a rapid-firing bow with a thousand arrows full of insults and snarky comments. Oh, the rudeness of him! It might probably be enough to send Jaskier to an early grave. “Though I think if it’s about Geralt he’ll come willingly. He’s actually a big softie under all that…outer…shell and his tough-guy attitude and whatnot.” 

“Good to know,” Mousesack nods, “You just let me know if you need anything, alright?” 

Jaskier smiles, “I will. Thank you.” 

Of course, it isn’t long before Jaskier realises that sitting around and just _watching_ over Geralt isn’t exactly helping in any way. Jaskier would much rather be working on something _and_ keeping an eye on the Witcher…even if it’s just reading through dusty old tomes. So, with Mousesack’s help they coordinate the soldiers to move a table and chair into the room along with armfuls of books allowing Jaskier to flip through dusty old tomes and scour them for some clues while keeping an eye on the sleeping Geralt.

Jaskier also gets to witness all the action firsthand. He gets to watch as Triss feeds Geralt the potion which stops the marks from growing too quickly. The bard also witnesses as Yennefer singlehandedly tries to break the curse by using an unbinding spell. It for some reason doesn’t work and Geralt remained in a deep slumber still. 

In a surprising turn of events, the first of the Witchers to make it to the castle a day later is Lambert whose shadow falls across Jaskier’s books as he’s reading. Annoyingly enough the Witcher chooses to announce his arrival to Jaskier by planting his hands upon the pages of the book covering the words and forcing Jaskier to stop his current research. Lambert grins a wolfish grin at the bard, “How’s Geralt’s little wife been?”

Jaskier felt his cheeks heat at Lambert’s words, “I’m not in the mood for your teasing right now, Lambert!” he snapped, and then softened his tone, “Sorry, I’m glad that you’re here but can you please take your hands off my books and make yourself useful. Geralt can use a good shave.”

“What you haven’t already done that?” Lambert quipped, as he removed his hands from the book, “I thought you were supposed to be taking care of him? That’s why you’re in here, no?”

“In case you haven’t noticed I’ve been looking through these old tomes for answers,” Jaskier gestures to the pile of books. 

“Any luck?” Lambert’s tone is softer this time, surprisingly more understanding.

Jaskier shakes his head, running his hands through his hair, “I honestly don’t know if I’m looking in the right place to even begin with.”

“I’m...sure you’re doing alright.” 

Jaskier eyes Lambert, it would seem that the youngest Witcher had reined in his attitude at least just a bit. Lambert hurriedly shuffled away from Jaskier’s table, “Where’s the godsdamned razor anyway?”

“By the washstand,” Jaskier said stifling a little laugh as he watched Lambert grab the razor, “Why don’t you shave him and I’ll head to the library for a bit, there’s bound to be more reading to be done.”

“Whatever I’m not gonna be staying here long anyway,” Lambert muttered as he watched the bard leave. Razor in hand, Lambert grabbed the washbasin and towel, setting them on the bedside table before he settled down at the edge of the bed.

“Hey sleeping beauty, it’s been a while,” Lambert greets as he gets to work, shaving the older Witcher’s stubble. For Lambert, Geralt’s always been the strongest one, the big brother that he admired, though Lambert would rather die than admit that to the older Witcher. When one of the Cintran Guard had caught him drinking in a tavern and gave him the news, Lambert rode night and day pushing his horse as fast as he could without killing the beast so that he could be with the Witcher...should anything untoward happen.

“I hope you can hear me in there while you’re sleeping…” Lambert began as he washed out the razor in the basin of water and turned Geralt’s cheek to start on his other side, “You know everyone’s really looking forward to you getting up now. I know you’re cursed and stuff but it’d be way easier if you could just wake the hell up you know?” 

Geralt didn’t move an inch. 

“They’re all really scrambling about and trying to help find a cure for you. Jaskier’s been reading through tons of dusty old tomes for your sake. I think the little guy really misses you. He’s even moved this huge desk into the room just so he can keep an eye on you while reading up on curses. You really should see him. Don’t think he’s slept in a couple of days…”

Lambert sighed, patting down Geralt’s shaved chin with a damp towel, “Always knew you were a stubborn ass. Can you for once, just do me a goddamn favour and wake the hell up alright?” 

The Witcher remained unresponsive.

**xXx**

The Grand Library is stocked floor to ceiling with books. It’s Jaskier’s umpteenth time coming into the library and still, he’s overwhelmed by the sheer capacity of the library and all its wonderful papery pleasures. If he weren’t in a hurry, Jaskier would have loved to browse through all the poetry and plays that Queen Calanthe’s library had to offer maybe recite them to Geralt…get the Witcher involved in a play...maybe steal a kiss or two...Jaskier shook his head at the thought. That would all only happen if Geralt woke up.

Jaskier hurries over to the shelf where book-shaped holes smattered the collection. He quickly sets to work picking out a couple of books only to realise that there’s too many for him to bring back alone. So the bard doesn’t go back, instead, he settles down at another table and begins skimming the books again eyes scanning the pages for some clue to break the curse. Hopefully, Lambert wouldn’t mind being alone for too long with Geralt.

By that evening, Eskel and Vesemir had arrived at the castle too and they rotate between being in the library and looking after Geralt. Jaskier must have fallen asleep for when he awoke to the sound of hushed voices, there was a coat about him and he found Mousesack and Vesemir conversing in a corner of the library. No doubt one of them must have done this. 

Now, according to Mousesack, Geralt’s marks had now reached his shoulders. Yennefer had tried another unbinding spell in the old Skellige tongue which had not worked. Vesemir too, with the help of Triss had tried his hand at breaking the curse by creating an old Witcher cleansing potion. They’d thought for a moment that it worked for the markings seemed to recede but Geralt did not wake.

As the moon rose high in the sky on that third night, they were all gathered in Geralt’s room, little Ciri included. Geralt’s family…and come to think of it, over time it had become Jaskier’s family too. The mood is sombre and there is an unspoken opinion that hangs in the air tonight. It seems that only Queen Calanthe dared to voice it out, “Perhaps…we should all be preparing for the inevitable…end.”

“Is Geralt not going to wake up anymore?” Ciri asked as she turned her big blue eyes to her grandmother. 

“I’m afraid not, lion cub,” Queen Calanthe replied softly as she held her granddaughter close, “Everyone here has put in so much hard work and tried everything to lift the curse. Now if Triss’ calculations are right tomorrow could be the last day.”

“It could very well be another day with my potion...but just to be on the safe side...” Triss said softly. 

“In the event that the Witcher really—“ 

“We haven’t tried everything yet!” Jaskier said as he eyed the occupants of the room, “Geralt once told me of someone he met at a crossroads. Gaunter O’Dimm. People make bargains with him and I will give my life if it means tha—”

“No!” Yennefer snapped cutting the bard off, “Don’t you finish that sentence.” 

Jaskier balked at her harsh reply, “Yennefer I only meant…” 

“No we are not making bargains with that person who’s not a person at all.” Yennefer told the bard, “I’m sure Geralt wouldn’t want to subject you to a lifetime in servitude to a monster of a man. And even if I hated you, I wouldn’t suggest such a thing.”

“But—”

Yennefer shook her head, “There are no buts in this Jaskier. No means no.” 

Jaskier looked from the sorceress to Geralt’s prone figure in bed and something in him snapped, “Don’t you understand!” he yelled, “I did this to him Yennefer! I put him there! It’s me! I played some _stupid_ game and got Geralt cursed somehow because of my goddamned bad luck. So now the least I can do is to take the punishment in place of Geralt. I can’t bear to see him like this…”

“Do you honestly think that any of us can bear to see him like this?” Yennefer asked.

And Jaskier thought he saw the slightest tremor of her lip. 

“I think we should all take a break tonight. the majority of you have worked very hard to try and help lift the curse. Let’s reconvene tomorrow morning when we’re all rested before we decide on our next steps,” Vesemir intervened. There was a mumbled agreement that rippled through their ranks. Jaskier, however, could barely think about getting any rest. 

The candles in the library were already aglow when Jaskier returned to his books once again. Fine, if he can’t sacrifice his life then the least he can do is to sacrifice his sleep. By now, Jaskier’s gone through most of the ‘scientific’ research available in Queen Calanthe’s library and as the night wore on, the bard decided to move on to the myths and legends involving curses. 

It must have been quite late for the candles were burning low in their holders when Jaskier came across the story of a princess who fell into a deep sleep after she had consumed a cursed apple. As it turned out, the curse was placed upon her by someone close to her and funnily enough, the thing that saved the princess and broke the curse was true love’s kiss. The idea alone is just plain absurd. To think of Geralt as a princess tickled Jaskier but nevertheless, this simple solution might just be what they were looking for. 

Grabbing the book Jaskier raced out of the library, “I’ve found it! I’ve found a cure!” he yelled as the guards stood to attention, “Get the rest of them now! I’ve found a cure!” Taking the stairs two at a time Jaskier bursts into Geralt’s room to find that the majority of them had stayed. All eyes looked to him now and leaning against the door to catch his breath, Jaskier spoke between pants, “I’ve found a cure!” he said as King Eist and Queen Calanthe along with a sleepy little bundle that must’ve been Ciri entered the room, joining the rest. 

“What are you on about, boy?” Vesemir asked.

“I found a cure, I think…” 

“Well go on then, spill the goddamn beans, bard!” Lambert urged. 

“Right, yes,” Jaskier held up the book and read out the words, “Borne of hatred this curse shall break, by true love’s kiss, shall she wake. Well…he…in Geralt’s case. So, true love’s kiss and only that is what can wake Geralt.”

“I’m glad you found something Jaskier, but the fact remains that it’s just a myth,” Eskel said, “The princess woke up. But who’s to say this will work on Geralt?”

“I mean it’s worth a try, right?” Jaskier asks as he looks expectantly over to Yennefer and Triss who reluctantly nodded along. 

“I suppose it is,” Vesemir said with a nod. 

“If potions and spells don’t work…guess we’ll leave it to mythology to solve the case…” Mousesack muttered.

“Are there any repercussions to this?” Queen Calanthe asked. 

“Well apart from getting your ego taken down a peg or two from realising that you’re not someone’s true love, I doubt it,” Jaskier replied. 

“Well go on Merigold, Yennefer, I’m sure one if not both of you can do that right? Wake the Prince?” Lambert teased, “Only matter is which one of you wants to go first.” 

Jaskier swore this was _the_ most awkward thing that he had witnessed. Two women who’d formerly been intimately involved with the Witcher trying to decide who would take the plunge, dive off the deep end first. 

“You should go first,” Yennefer said to Triss. 

Triss politely declined, “If anything I think /you/ should go first. Only because you’re the one who’s destiny-bound to Geralt.”

Yennefer laughed, a scathing bitter sound, “Unfortunately not anymore, I asked for the bond to be undone. It has been this way for a while now. So please,” the lilac eyed sorceress invited Triss to go first once again. 

“Ladies, can either one of you make the move, please?” Calanthe groaned as she watched them argue, “I won’t have a Witcher dying in my castle.” 

“Fine,” Triss ground out as she approaches Geralt lying in the bed. She’s clearly nervous as she perches on the mattress, hesitating before leaning in to kiss Geralt squarely on the lips. Before she can pull back Jaskier tells her to, “Hold it in place count till ten and then you can pull back! Just in case it takes a while to work!” 

Triss holds her ground before finally pulling back. They waited in silence, breaths held…as nothing happened. The marks remained fractured across Geralt’s chest and his amber eyes remained closed. 

A niggling little thought in the back of Jaskier’s mind already knew that it would never have worked with Triss. Yennefer had been the one to change Geralt the most, destiny bound or not, she and the Witcher were the epitome of a perfect couple. The bard isn’t worried at all because if Triss can’t wake Geralt, then surely Yennefer will be able to. 

“See? I told you, Yen,” Triss said softly as she retreated back into her corner. 

“Your turn then,” Queen Calanthe said to Yennefer who approached the bed with a somewhat cautious gait.

Jaskier watches as the sorceress leans down towards Geralt. Yennefer tucks her hair behind her ear now as she kissed the Witcher. The bard for some reason can’t bring himself to look at them and lets his eyes drop to the pages of the book instead, the way the words seemed to blend into one. 

“It’s not working,” Yennefer’s voice cuts through the silence in the room.

“Did you kiss him right?” Jaskier asked, “You need to kiss him right you know, tongue and all?” 

Yennefer whipped about raising a brow at the bard, “I think I know how to kiss someone well enough.” 

“Try again then…” Jaskier muttered as he proceeded to look to the book once more as though that was going to work. As though the cure was going to spring out from the pages. 

“You do it.” 

“What?” Jaskier squeaked startled by Yennefer’s suggestion and also not quite sure that he’d heard quite right. 

“You do it, you kiss Geralt.” 

Jaskier swallowed hard as the world seemed to shrink around him, “I-I-I um…I can’t…I don’t really have expertise in that area and—”

“For heaven’s sake, Jaskier! Just kiss the Witcher already!” Calanthe snapped, “Time’s wasting and the faster you do it the better.” 

“Go on,” Triss says as she takes the book from Jaskier’s hands, offering the bard an encouraging smile. 

“You’re practically Geralt’s little wife, and since you started this whole thing what better way than for you to end it?” Lambert reminded the bard as the brunet passed him by on the way to Geralt’s side, “I’d bet you fifty crown he’s gonna wake,” he said to Eskel beside him.

“You’re sure it’s gonna work?” Eskel asked.

“You’re sure it’s not? I mean you saw the bard when Geralt brought him to Kaer Morhen. They were sleeping together,” Lambert hissed back.

Eskel frowned, “Sure they were. But that doesn’t prove anything.”

Lambert rolled his eyes turning his attention back to the bard. 

Jaskier looked to Yennefer as he approached Geralt’s bedside.

“You know what to do, just a kiss should wake him,” Yennefer said. 

“And if it doesn’t?” Jaskier asked as he lowered himself to the bed, gazing at the sleeping Witcher. At the way his chest rose and fell with each breath he took making the marks look as though they were alive. 

“Then we’ll have to find some other method,” Yennefer replied softly. She noted Jaskier’s hesitation. After all these years, it would seem the bard still doubted the hold that he had over Geralt, “Jaskier,” blue-grey eyes turned to her, almost fearful, “It’s okay. You can do this.” 

Jaskier heard her footsteps retreating. What was that all about? Yennefer being nice to him? Believing in him? It felt strange. The bard could feel all the eyes on him. Part of him worried that this might not work and yet there was this other part that screamed at him, but what if it _did_? What if he woke Geralt? Did that mean that Geralt and him were meant to be? Jaskier would be his true love…and…oh…oh…the thoughts were endless. The bard shuffled closer to the Witcher now as he planted his hand against the bed to support himself. 

_‘Right. It’s just a kiss. No big deal…’_

This close Jaskier noticed just how long Geralt’s eye-lashes were. How white his hair is. How supple his lips look. “Please wake up…” he whispers as he cupped a hand against Geralt’s cheek, squeezed his eyes shut and kissed the Witcher. He held his lips to Geralt’s counting in his head till ten before he pulled away. For a moment nothing happened and Jaskier wanted to scream and cry but then he saw the marks receding, their spindly web-like fractures retracting right before his eyes as Geralt’s amber eyes finally opened, meeting his. Jaskier let out a little elated sob as Geralt sat up. 

The bard heard the cheers and the applause from somewhere behind him but Jaskier couldn’t stop the overwhelming emotions running through him and he threw his arms about Geralt, hugging the Witcher tightly, “Oh thank goodness you’re awake…I’ve missed you so so so much!”

“I think it should be you that I’m thanking,” Geralt replied as he held the bard close, “I could hear every single word whilst I slept. True love’s kiss, Jaskier? What a romantic way to break the curse.” 

The bard blushed a bright red, “Oh shut up! It wasn’t just me, the rest of them helped as well,” Jaskier said as he shifted back. 

Geralt eyed the people who’d gathered around the bed in his room. The people whom he’d come to know and trust over the years. People who eventually became his friends and, dare he even admit it, his family. The events of the last few days were nothing but traumatising for them but frustrating for Geralt only because he knew that he could hear them but do nothing about it.

“Thank you. All of you…for everything that you’ve done,” Geralt said with a nod at them, “Also, Lambert! I heard what you said about me being a sleeping beauty,” Geralt glared at Lambert who grinned wolfishly. 

“Well I’m right, aren’t I? Always knew you were a princess and had a thing for the bard. Else his kiss couldn’t have worked!” 

“Grandma, does this mean Jaskier’s a Prince now?” Ciri asked as laughter rippled through the ranks of the Witcher’s family.

“I can certainly confer the tile upon him, so yes, of course, my darling lion cub,” Queen Calanthe said as she nuzzled her granddaughter's cheek. 

Geralt smirked as he turned his attention back to the bard, “I guess that makes you my Prince Charming now, Jaskier.” 

“Mmm, I’ve always dreamt of being someone’s Prince,” Jaskier hummed, “ I will gladly oblige, especially if it means I get to do this all the time,” Jaskier replied as he swooped in to steal another kiss from the Witcher. 

**xXx**

_And so you see dear reader, the strange ways in which destiny works drawing together an array of different characters, each with their own special skill set and giving them a home in each other._

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thank you all for reading, hopefully, that wasn't too much of a cringe-fest. Do leave me comments/kudos as it helps let me know what kinds of stuff interest you guys! <3


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